Just Like Him
by flick knife
Summary: How Professor Binns found his inspiration to teach


**I found this just floating round in my folders, and can barely remember why I wrote it in the first place. It was probably for a prompt contest on another site that I forgot to enter. But still, it amused me, and I felt I shold finally put it up somewhere.**

**Enjoy!  
**

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"Which greenhouse are we in?"

Cuthbert Binns stood with his fellow first years, waiting for one of them to dig out a timetable and look as they all gazed at the row of numbered greenhouses before them. Their first lesson of Herbology and they'd all trooped down to the grounds of Hogwarts to find the rickety glass buildings several minutes before the lesson was due to start.

"Number one!" Hubert Pettyworth announced, holding a battered piece of parchment before him. "With Professor Minks."

Cuthbert and Hubert had become immediate friends upon the sorting, on account of both being placed in Hufflepuff and both having similar first names, at least, that was Hubert's reasoning when he sat next to Cuthbert during the welcoming feast. So upon hearing his friend announce the greenhouse number and the name of the teacher, Cuthbert gave an approving nod, wiped his nose on the sleeve of his robe, and proceeded to lead the way down the path and to the large greenhouse.

The greenhouse itself really was large, and an unusual sight to most of the students. Greenhouses and the exotic plants they usually contained were often reserved for only royalty and the richest of people. Cuthbert had only ever seen them in Kew gardens before, and so far he wasn't very impressed with what he saw. The bulky iron frame with cracked glass that probably rattled in it's frame didn't seem to belong to the grand, magical school Professor Black ran. If anything, it was disappointing.

There was a feeling of superiority beginning to settle over Cuthbert as he glanced around the other students looks of wonder. Poorer students, he decided, looking at their slightly faded robes, or ones from the country. This was all new to them, he thought, they'd never seen a house made of glass before.

But the feeling was short lived as they passed greenhouse three and something smacked into the window, causing the small group to jump and Cuthbert to let out a small yelp.

"Just the venomous tentacula!" a tall wizard told them, loping over from greenhouse one. "It's been incredibly unruly lately, don't know what's got into it, maybe it's the weather." He paused for a moment, eyeing the sky with it's normal haze of soft cloud as if it had personally insulted him, before snapping his attention back to the students before him and smiling.

"You must be the first years!" he exclaimed. "Come along, come along, you're a bit early, but I'm sure you won't mind waiting for the rest of the class inside, they'll probably be along shortly. I'm Professor Minks and I'll be teaching you in Herbology, of course. Have you all got your copies of One Hundred Herbs and Where To Find Them? Good, good, we'll be making notes on fertilisers this lesson. You must get to know about the plants and their properties before using them, you know, makes it so much safer when it comes to handling them-"

Cuthbert and Hubert darted around Mary Tooke, a fellow Hufflepuff who was staring at the enthusiastic professor wide-eyed, and found a place in the middle of the room. It didn't take long for the rest of the students to arrive, the few Ravenclaws that came in sitting at the front and Slytherins at the back, Gryffindor found themselves in the middle, near the Hufflepuffs. All of them were a few minutes early to the lesson, the product of being a first year with an untainted yearning to get to class, which would gradually fade as the years went on, until their final year in which they'd swing into class just as it started at the earliest.

"Now then," the tall wizard was stood at the front of the class, beaming at them. "As this is your first Herbology lesson, we'll be making notes-" and began the spiel he'd already told the first students all over again.

Cuthbert sighed and looked over at Hubert, who already had his chin resting on his hand and was staring into space.

"I don't think I even _like _plants," Cuthbert whispered to him. "They're boring."

Hubert grunted and nodded and a Ravenclaw in front of them turned to glare reproachfully as Professor Minks continued with his speech, Cuthbert sighed and sank down in his seat, gazing through the murky glass and watching as older students in the green house next to theirs flailed round and seemed to tackle a small plant.

"Now then!" Professor Minks announced loudly, causing half the class to jump. "Notes! Get out your quills and parchment and we shall start looking at the properties of dragon dung fertiliser!"

Cuthbert's hands were splattered with ink when he left the greenhouse, still unaccustomed to using a quill and ink and favouring a pencil when he was at home. Hubert was worse for wear, however, having managed to break two quill nibs and flick ink into his eye, there was still a drop on his top lip as they started tramping back to the castle and to their next lesson.

"Which lesson do we have now?" Cuthbert asked as they went through the doors. Hubert plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out the now even more crumpled sheet with his timetable on. During a brief comparison when they'd received their timetables, two days ago, the pair had been delighted to discover they had almost all their lessons together, the only exception being potions.

"History of Magic," his friend told him, rubbing his face and smearing the ink further. "Sounds boring."

Cuthbert sighed and scowled at the piece of parchment his friend was holding.

"I though coming to a wizarding school would be fun," he moped as they made their way to the fourth floor. "My parents liked it, they said it was great, why's it so boring now?"

"Maybe it's Professor Black?" Hubert suggested, equally as disappointed at how the school was turning out. "My mother says he's the most unpopular headmaster the school's had so far."

"Yes, there is that general opinion around," a new voice joined in. "However, give him a chance, I'm sure he won't be as bad as you think."

The two boys jumped as something cold washed over them and the Fat Friar flew through the gap between then, apparently misjudging how large the gap between the pair were and numbing their arms as he flew through.

"Sorry about that," he chuckled as Hubert stopped to rub his arm, attempting to get the feeling back. "Always forget about the paunch." He laughed again and patted his vast stomach. "But still, don't judge Professor Black just yet, you may find him a wonderful and charming man!"

Cuthbert and Hubert exchanged doubtful glances as the Friar floated before them, the comfortable smile ever present on his face.

"Oh! Dear me," the Friar exclaimed suddenly. "Here, I am, chatting away and you must be trying to get to lessons, where are you off to?"

"History of Magic," Cuthbert replied, taking this as his cue to start walking and hopefully leave the overpoweringly friendly ghost behind.

"Ah, Professor Willums," the Fat Friar nodded. "Excellent, excellent indeed. Well, I must be off now, I won't keep you, I'll see you around soon again no doubt, farewell!" And he flew into a wall.

Hubert shuddered and sped up a bit, still rubbing his arm, "these ghosts give me the creeps," he muttered, "can't get used to them."

"They just pop up everywhere," Cuthbert agreed. "Can't they even try and use doors? It's unnerving."

"And now we're going to be late for- wait, there we are!"

The two first years sprinted for the door that was half way down the hall, making it into the room with a minute to spare before the lesson was due to start.

"Ah, you must be the last two."

Cuthbert and Hubert and run into the room to come face to face with a young wizard who was just about to close the door. He smiled down at them and gestured them through with a long sweep of his arm.

"Take a seat, anywhere you like really, it doesn't matter."

The two scurried to take a seat amongst the other over-eager or over-anxious schoolmates, placing themselves in the two seats at the end of the Ravenclaw lot. The four other Hufflepuffs they shared the class with looked over apologetically, and slightly intimidated at being sat between the Gryffindors and Slytherins, three days into their first school year and the rivalry was already evident.

"Now then," the smiling man announced. "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Professor Willums, and I shall be teaching you History of Magic for the next few years. Don't fret though," he said as he jumped onto a desk and started pacing along the row of students, "it's not as boring as it seems, really. You'll be learning about goblin riots, goblin rebellions, and giant wars! _No one_ can make this subject boring! And I have the pleasure of telling you all about it. Now, if you could get out parchment and quills, we shall make some notes!"

Taking notes in history of magic was quite the opposite of how Cuthbert had taken notes in any other lesson. The highlight of school life so far had been when Professor Whetby had made her desk gallop around the room in transfiguration. History of magic was different though.

Professor Willums leapt from desk to desk, acting out scenes from goblin riots with a bellowing voice and wielding a sword that he'd ripped from the wall where it had previously been for decorative purposes. The girls screamed when he got too close and the boys were grinning at their displays of weakness, until Professor Willums whirled the sword too close to them, in which case they hastily swallowed their laughter and scrawled down the latest date he'd shouted out whilst jumping the several feet from Alistair's desk to Edward's.

"Wow," Hubert breathed out when they left the lesson to go to lunch.

"I know what I'm going to do when I'm older," Cuthbert said, the grin never leaving his face. "I'm going to teach history of magic. I'm going to be _just like him."_


End file.
